


the surviving three

by The_Empress_of_Everything



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: #longmayhereign, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, I'm mourning so you get to mourn with me, Mollymauk's Coat - Freeform, Poorly Handled Grief and Mourning, Spoilers for Episode 27, hi I'm not ok, spoilers for episode 26
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 00:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15449589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Empress_of_Everything/pseuds/The_Empress_of_Everything
Summary: shine bright, circus man~long may he reign.





	the surviving three

**Author's Note:**

> This is so sad. Alexa, play Despacito.
> 
> (IT'S WHAT MOLLY WOULD'VE WANTED OK)

Beauregard has been screaming for ten minutes. Her staff flashed in Caleb’s peripheral vision, cracking against rocks and tree stumps and anything else not person shaped she could reach. Screaming all the while in a broken voice. Her throat must be aching by this point, Caleb notes, mind wandering away from the reality of this situation. 

Disassociation has always been a good defense mechanism. He doesn’t notice how he anxiously shreds the hem of his coat between restless hands. He cannot tear his eyes from Molly’s…

Molly’s…

From Molly’s body. 

Dark black blood has stained the earth beneath his body. If he rolled Mollymauk over, no doubt there would be a massive hole through the back of the extravagant coat, rimmed in blood and body fluids. 

Seeing a dead body was nothing new to Caleb. _Body_ is the kindest word he can think of to refer to the loss facing him. Corpse sounded so…

 ** _Final._**  

Corpse meant Molly would never come back. Corpse meant Caleb would not see Molly swirling toward him, coat flaring and jewelry jingling. Corpse meant there would be less color, less light, less joy in Caleb’s dark world.

Molly was almost the best thing to have entered Caleb’s life. And now…

There was nothing.

* * *

Beau clutches the tarot cards to her chest, wracked with violent shakes. It could’ve been from the cold or from grief; she couldn’t tell. 

Molly’s coat hung from the pole. Flapping in the wind and flashing the colors and beading, it is a mocking sight.

_You could’ve saved him. You were right there. It could’ve been stopped._

_But you weren’t strong enough, Beauregard._

“Fuck you, Molly, fuck you.” Voice breaking, Beau tangles her frozen fingers into the coat. Her head is thrown back, and she screams to the sky. “FUCK YOU MOLLYMAUK TEALEAF. FUCK YOU AND FUCK THE GODS. FUCK LORENZO. FUCK EVERYTHING. I’M COMING FOR YOU, LORENZO. YOU HEAR ME, FUCKER? YOUR DAYS ARE NUMBERED AND YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR _FUCKING_ BACK.”

When she shakily creaks to her feet, tears frozen on her cheeks and wincing at the pins and needles, she tucks the cards back into her pocket. “I promise you, Mollymauk Tealeaf. Lorenzo will _fucking_ pay for killing you.” One hand clumsily patted the jacket. 

* * *

Nott sits in silence, staring blankly into the quietly falling snow. Frumpkin roosted on her shoulder, gurgling sadly and butting his feathered head against hers. Her flask is clutched in her tiny goblin hands. She takes a swig every now and then.

“We aren’t the Mighty Nein anymore, are we?”

Beau and Caleb don’t answer her. Both zoned out and staring into the flames. “We aren’t the Mighty Nein anymore, _are we?_ ” She repeated, frustration and rage and grief filling her voice. The lack of reaction is infuriating. “We aren’t the _fucking_ Mighty Nein. We were never mighty. We were just fumbling around in the dark, weak and blind, and Molly died. Molly was the rainbow man that kept us together and now he’s _gone_. We don’t have Jester or Fjord or Molly or Yasha. We’re broken. We are _nothing_ without our friends. We-”

Caleb grabs her and pulls her close to his chest. Her voice devolves into sobs as taloned hands clutched at his coat. The chill on her back vanishes as Beau joined the hug. “Cry it out, Nott.” Beau’s voice is rough and cracked. Her screaming at the gods hadn’t gone unnoticed by the other two. 

Sighing into her hair, Caleb’s voice breaks a bit. “No. We are not the Mighty Nein. We are the Surviving Three. And we have to survive. Because it is what Molly would’ve wanted. And we have friends who need us.” 

They kneel in the cold and the snow, quietly weeping for what could’ve been and what they would never have back.

* * *

When they leave the next morning, his coat flaps in the wind. And, for a moment, there is the faintest image of a purple-skinned tiefling watching them walk away with a tiny, sad smile. 

The breeze blows a voice by the mounted mourners.

_Welcome to the Mighty Nein._

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got caught up and watched episodes 26 and 27 and honestly I'm not ok. 26 hurt me but hearing Beau genuinely mourn Molly broke me. I've been crying on and off all day and yeah. I just want my Mighty Nein back together and happy again. #longmayhereign


End file.
